Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2015
he puts concentrated, constant effort into every day.
he has no choice, and you can see it in his face.
it looks rough. it looks like work and worry.
it looks like inexplicable failure.
it looks like mine.
I look away.

Sometimes I open my eyes to find my room darker than I remember,
and sometimes I dream that I have murdered,
I dream that I am careless.
Sometimes I open my eyes to find my room emptier than I remember.

Weird girl, weird girl. She is sorry she opened her eyes.
Molly
Written by
Molly  Colorado
(Colorado)   
688
   David Montgomery
Please log in to view and add comments on poems